Night Fury: The Warp Factor
by JuggernautTruax
Summary: Hiccup lives two lives - a sucky one and a great one. He is Hiccup, scrawny son of the mayor in one, and in the other, he is Night Fury, the superhero with the ability to teleport. His life as a superhero is great, until an enemy he knows all too well returns from his past to haunt him. SUPERHERO AU *LOOSELY BASED OFF OF SPIDER-MAN* Note: Bleeped Swearing, I'll update weekly.


**This is my first story, so it would be great to get a few reviews. Please?**

**I'm going to have 2000 words per chapter, but this one is a introduction to see if you like it - so it'll be shorter.**

**Don't worry - I'll introduce Night Fury this chapter.**

**I will try to update at least once a week once I have either 70 views or 10 reviews.**

**Thank you in advance (dang, it's going to be really awkward if nobody writes a review), and Juggernaut out.**

**P.S. Again, heavy swearing but the curse words are mostly bleeped. **

If you had told me three months ago that I would be lying in a infirmary recovering from a fight with a supervillain - well, I probably wouldn't have believed you. If you had told me three months ago that Astrid Hofferson would be lying by my bed, holding my hand - I _definitely _wouldn't have believed you.

Now, to travel back in time, I am going to use the mystical machine called TheLoadsOfEqualSignsInator.

**=======THREE MONTHS AGO=======**

My name is Henry Haddock, but everyone calls me Hiccup - even my father and my teachers. Hiccup seems like a ridiculous nickname, but it isn't so far off. You see, I am cursed with a the totally legitimate disease of chronic hiccups. Even though I'm fifteen, I'm a pygmy - 5 feet 4 inches **(All extremely short 15 year-olds, I apologize in advance)**. I can lift the grand total of 15 pounds. If you haven't guessed it yet, you probably can't read. _I AM SCRAWNY_. In Philadelphia or New York, that would be such a big deal, but I live in a city called Berk. Berk has 3 million inhabitants, and almost every single one is beefier than a cow. But the worst part is that I'm the mayor's son, so the WHOLE CITY knows how disappointed my father is in me.

As I walk to school, I have to pick up my books more times than I can keep track of - even with my 4.0 GPA mind. A side effect of everyone being the beefiest possible - even the nerds - is that 90% of the entire school is made up of bullies and jocks. Our city has the lowest GPA in the country, so you can see I'm a huge outlier. In Seattle or Portland, I wouldn't be a nerd. I don't obsess with schooling - it just comes naturally to me. But of course I live in Berk, where if you weight less than 250 pounds as a teenager, you're a nerd. I have yet to break half of that. **(I am 5' 4", and I'm only 95 pounds O_O)**.

My teachers hate me - except the principal. Ironic, isn't it? Everything in my life is upside down. I hate being rich, wish I had lower grades, and wish I was a jock. Most people dislike their teachers and hate their principal, but actually, all things considered, Gobber (the principal) is pretty nice to me. Because I'm tiny, even the prejudiced teachers will find fault in me. Gobber knows me well enough to let me off the hook - he's a lifesaver. As of four months ago, he officially saved me from my thousandth hour of unwarranted detention.

Yes, really.

It's the first day of school, and, of course, I'm the first there. I sit down in my seat - which I get every year because no one wants to sit in the "Hiccup" seat - and the teacher promptly gives me a detention for putting superglue on his seat. I ignore him, knowing Gobber will sort it out, and wait for the rest of the class to slowly trickle in.

Everyone sits as far as possible from me. The exceptions? Snotlout, because he lives to pick on me, Fishlegs, the only beefy nerd in the school (who got his name from watching the Little Mermaid one too many times), and Ruffnut and Tuffnut - mostly because any mischief they cause will be blamed on me. The last person in is forced to sit in the only remaining seat - the one to my left.

It's Astrid.

Oh, I am _so _dead.

Astrid is the hottest girl in the school, the best runner in the school, and as _everyone _knows, the best puncher in the school. Even so, she's probably the single most popular girl around.

I am very much screwed.

======**ASTRID POV======**

As I walk in, I immediately see the only possible seat is next to Hiccup.

_No! _I shout in my head. _Anyone but him!_ I double-and-triple-check the classroom for other seats - but there are none. _NO! _Even associating with Hiccup will lower my popularity.

I sit next to him - determinedly looking anywhere but him, I feel my eyes drawn to him. I look at his face, which is cute in a nerdy kind of way. _No, Astrid! He isn't cute! Think of how horrible he is. _As I sit there giving him figurative devil horns, I become more and more angry at him. I can't find one bad thing he's done.

It's like I'm watching from the outside when I reach out and take his hand - before twisting it hard enough to break it.

======**HICCUP POV======**

When I feel the burning in my wrist, my first instinct is to curse.

"What the ****?!"

I jump up hopping, around, holding my wrist while screaming out profanities, and the entire class erupts into laughter. As my face turns red, I notice one harsh laugh is missing from the cacophony. Astrid isn't laughing.

"What the hell Astrid?"

Astrid looks away, her bangs covering her face, both anger and regret in her eyes.

"What did I ever do to you?"

No response.

"See, Fishlegs," I say, gesturing to Astrid, "This is why we can't have nice things."

Astrid jumps up as I sit down, ranting about how I am such a horrible person, that I've been mean to everyone in the room, as everyone looks on dumbfoundedly **(Not a real word - I know)**.

When she sits down I began laughing so hard, and for once, the rest of the class laughs with me.

"Hiccup - mean?" Ruffnut chokes out, in between spasms of laughter.

"Says the girl who on average, punches 8.71892 kids a day" Fishlegs recites.

He leans in, and whispers in my ear. "I made up the last two digits because it makes me sound more credible."

Fishlegs, the guy who knows exactly how many people Astrid punches in a day - to the third decimal point. Fishlegs, the guy who doesn't even care that he is a nerd.

My arm continues to swell, and I give up on writing. I don't even ask to be excused - the teacher will say no anyway. Gobber will help clean it up, and anyway, it looks like it's have a break - hopefully the teacher won't blame me for that one. Gobber drives me to the hospital, ignoring my curses.

_Damn Astrid Hofferson._


End file.
